


Drabbles From Prompts 5: Return of the Prompt

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Anal Sex, Animal Death, Assassination, BDSM, Bad Puns, Bathing Suits, Battle, Battlefield, Beaches, Begging, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blind Date, Blindfolds, Body Worship, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Candy, Car Wash - Freeform, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner, Disguise, Dom/sub, Dress Up, Eating, Explosions, Eye Socket, Eye Trauma, F/F, Hair Brushing, Interrogation, Kittens, Love Bites, M/M, Making Out, Marking, Mercy Killing, Monsters, Movie Night, Multi, Oral Sex, Party, Porn Magazines, Prison, Rabies, Romance, Science, Secret Identity, Sex Toys, Showers, Smuggling, Speedos, Stomach Ache, Stuffing, Succubi & Incubi, Suits, Ties & Cravats, Torture, Trust, Undressing, Vibrators, Violence, Voyeurism, Werewolf!Demoman, Workplace Sex, jailbreak, unmasking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fifth series of short drabbles done from prompts given to me by Tumblr users at my request.<br/>Requester's screenname is presented as the chapter title for each drabble, along with the prompt itself in the notes for each chapter.</p><p>(Any depictions of blood, death, or violence are kept in a combat or torture context, and are not part of the sexual content of this fic.  Any depictions of animal death are "offscreen" and mentioned as an aside and in no detail.  Any depictions of eye trauma are in reference to using an empty eye socket to store/carry items, and thus can be unsettling or squicky.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ms-ashri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHM SPYxENGIE , savior (preferably cross faction) UuU pls and thank u

Charging through the shattered remains of the RED team's sentry, Soldier rounded the corner beside it, ready to obliterate the next he expected would follow. He had expected to find a few things. He'd expected to find a dispenser. He'd expected to find a teleporter. He'd expected to find the RED Engineer.

What he hadn't expected to find was the RED Medic, pushed up against the dispenser, his shirt untucked, his hair mussed, his jacket open and strong, calloused hands roving over his chest and belly, sides and waist. He hadn't expected to see the RED Engineer craning up to lock lips with the doctor, tongues tangling, heated, urgent breaths puffing through both men's noses, nails digging into the mechanic's shoulders.

He hadn't expected to lock eyes with Medic, for the doctor to raise his syringe gun, and in a puff of blue smoke and light, to fire the Ambassador over Engineer's shoulder, his face shorting out to reveal a blue mask and an annoyed smirk. Respawn; that he'd expected.

"Cher, how are we ever to get some time alone if I am constantly saving your life? Rebuild your sentry, and I shall see about giving you a little more to work with," the rogue teased, unbuttoning his shirt with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  



	2. untraditionalmedicinal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the writing thing, could you possibly do Bomb Voyage (Demo and Spy)?

"Mon loup," Spy cooed, nosing in against Demoman's temple, pressing soft kisses to the hair that trailed down into his muttonchops.

"Last time I checked, I'm nae a bloody wolf, love," the bomber chuckled, turning to capture Spy's lips with a short peck.

"You are sure? The bite marks you left on me might speak to a different truth."

"Ye love it, dunnae even try tae play." Demoman rolled over atop Spy, pinning him to the mattress and grinning as he was welcome with the rogue's warm chuckles. "Else I'll give ye more tae try and hide."


	3. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Engineer/Scout, washing Engie's truck? <3

"Like this?" Scout asked, craning up to polish the windshield of Engineer's truck. It was just high enough that he had to crane up on his tip toes and lean over the hood, and it made Scout, normally secure in his comfortably above-average height, to feel a bit miniscule in comparison to the weather-beaten machine. He was covered in suds and water from washing the great metal beast.

"Just like that, " Engineer confirmed, grinning as he popped open a fresh beer and took a good long look at Scout's ass and back as it flexed with each reaching movement.

"But, uh, you sure the speedo is necessary? I'm kinda gettin' a wedgie here, an' the guys'll see."

"Juuuuust like that," Engineer assured him with a chuckle. "Never welch on a bet, Darlin'."

Scout just shook his head and went back to it, shaking his hips in time with each swipe of the chamois. If he was stuck as a one-man bikini car wash, he might as well commit to the bit.


	4. filthycannibal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRAT FIC BRAT FIC with uh...... them on vacation!! medic in an old-timey bathing suit!! heavy in a speedo!! scout equal parts embarrassed and amused!!!

Scout smirked as Heavy strode in from the water, hair slicked against his wet, shining skin. He watched as heads turned, eyes sliding across the muscular giant's perfect body with equal measures of envy, desire, and awe. He was on full display, a mountain of muscle with a snuggly belly to round him out, an intimidating, alluring creature he was proud to call his lover. The barest amount of fabric separated him and the open air and sun and surf, a red speedo that clung lovingly to his bottom, but lasciviously to the precious cargo it bore in front. Scout watched with glee as he saw eyes slide down Heavy's immaculate form to rest with amazement and hunger upon the barely-contained anatomy his speedo tried so very hard to hide.

He wasn't sure if they'd make it back to the hotel before he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

A giggle to his left caught Scout's ear, dragging his attention away from the Siberian adonis striding up to his towel, directing it instead to a pair of young women tittering in amusement and pointing just past Heavy.

Scout craned to look, and exiting the water not far behind his larger lover, came Medic, trailing behind blindly without his spectacles on, careful to avoid chunks of shells in the sand as he tried to catch up to the older of his two partners.

Medic wore what looked like a relic, an antique, a short-sleeved, short-legged onesie of a bathing suit which, the doctor had assured Scout, had once been the style, and all the rage. Looking at the suit's broad, horizontal stripes, Scout couldn't be sure where or when this had ever been "all the rage". From the red and white of the suit, he guessed some place heavily populated by candy canes.

Still, it was cute. And it made for the funniest tan lines.

Scout chewed at his lip as his lovers reached the towels upon which he sat, appraising them. "Hey. You two ever think about huntin' down a nude beach?"


	5. catcard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy and Medic engaging in a mutual undressing ritual after a long tiring afternoon

Medic's coat was the first thing he shed, dropping it unceremoniously into the hamper. His tie soon followed, wrenched free with little regard for fabric or the sanctity of his neck. He needed to be out of it. Of all of it. Sweat and grime and blood and dirt were caked in every crevice, every fold of flesh and fabric, and he needed to be free and clean or he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it.

Heavy watched him with a soft smile. Medic was always so short with his clothes after a fight, weary and tired of the restrictive, protective fabrics, itching to go shower as soon as possible.

But he never headed there after a fight. He could strip in the locker room and shower immediately, but he never did. He never would. He treasured their time alone far more than freedom from the grit and grossness.

Broad hands found their way to the doctor's hips, slipping up to his waist and the belt that circled it. With ease, he unbuckled the thing and opened Medic's fly as the older man fussed with buttons. Waistcoat buttons, shirt buttons, and soon enough, the button on Heavy's fly after he shed his own layers.

It was how it always seemed to go, a procedure they followed so often it was instinctual. Heavy would help Medic in his frenzied undressing, and Medic would encourage Heavy to join him. It was soothing, in a way, for the giant's broad hands to sweep across his sweat-tacky skin each time more was revealed. It was soothing for the doctor to press his face into Heavy's chest hair and inhale deeply the scent collected there the moment his shirt was over his head. It was soothing to expose their bodies to one another and relish the cool air of their darkened quarters, the shades drawn, sunlight banished to keep the room just a little more tolerable in the hot desert afternoon.

When boots were shed and set in the corner for cleaning, clothes piled in a mess of dirt and blood in the hamper, and two men were bare to one another and trading soft kisses, they could finally relax. Heavy snatched up their towels and handed one to his lover, smiling broadly as he looked the war-weary Teuton up and down. The rest of the team should be finished with their showers and moved on, leaving them time to be alone together. "Come along now, Doktor."


	6. hazama-kuroo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fempyro (or agender pyro, whichever you choose) x femgie, watching scifi movies and cuddling and stuff

"Now that ain't even close to accurate! Everyone knows there ain't no sound in space!" Engineer groused, crossing her arms over her chest.

Pyro's shoulder shook with soft laughter, her fingers gently petting circles on her lover's back. "I don't think they care about realism so much as what's interesting to watch. I mean, none of these kinds of movies do the whole science thing accurately, right?"

"Yeah, it's true. Just once I'd like to see science fiction that remembers the science part. Though the scantily clad green Martian women, that I can appreciate," the Texan chuckled, letting one hand roam the curve of Pyro's hip.

Pyro grinned, "You want me to go get some body paint?"

"That depends. Do you _come_ in peace?"

"You're awful!"

"First time I've heard that from you, Darlin'," Engineer laughed, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth.


	7. annalaatikko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRABBLE REQUEST: Heavy and Medic reading a dirty magazine together dohohoh.

"Is this really what you read, Doktor?" Heavy marvelled, turning the page and growing red-faced. The magazine that sat on the bed before him was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Certainly, he'd seen pornographic magazines before. It was hard to pass through a truck stop or gas station without seeing a small assortment of girly mags on the news rack, with bouncy bosoms, winking eyes, and legs to next week on display to tempt would-be "readers" to spend the coin to see more. But this. This was something entirely different.

Men covered the pages of this magazine, resplendent in muscle and hair, near-caricatures of masculinity clad in little or nothing. There was some flimsy framing device related to health and fitness, but Heavy knew it was a simple sheen of plausible deniability should the law become involved. It was very obvious who this magazine was made for, and for what nefarious purposes.

Certainly they were the purposes for which Medic owned them.

"Read is a bit of a misnomer," Medic teased, letting his fingers dance up Heavy's back as he laid upon his elbows. "It is not like there are interesting articles like one would find in, say, Playboy. This is purely...biological."

"Biological," Heavy repeated with the weariness of a man tormented daily by more awful jokes than any normal human could withstand. He sighed and continued paging through the magazine, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. Nearly every man in this magazine, though muscular and attractive, was also thick, and just a bit chubby. Clad in soft hair and a slight layer of fat, Heavy couldn't help but appreciate just how specific Medic's tastes were, and how he fit them so perfectly. "Doktor, why have I not seen you using these before?"

"Why should I need to? I have you here with me. My fantasies are a reality, Schatz. Now come. I should like to do a bit of light reading," Medic teased, running his hands over Heavy's shoulders and urging him to roll over.


	8. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soldier and Demowolf. Demo has gotten rabies and Solly has to put him down. No shipping, just friendship.

Demoman's eye was wide, amber glittering in the full light of the unshielded stars above and around. The night was clear and beautiful, the moon full, smiling coolly down on the desert below, watching with dispassionate interest as the Scotsman, clad in fur and fangs, slowly backed away from his teammate, staring in shock down the barrel of a shotgun.

Soldier sniffed and re-leveled his aim on the werewolf, on the man he called his friend. In all of their scuffles, all of their lives and deaths and beheadings, somehow he'd always been terrified it would end like this. With rabies.

Demoman snarled and tried to swipe away the shotgun. Soldier was being ridiculous. Drinking together on the full moon had been a terrible idea, and he'd told the obstinate American as much, but he would have none of it. So when he found himself with a drunken lycanthrope on his hands, with a muzzle sodden in the foamy head of hastily poured lager drank from a wide bowl in lieu of lips to properly sip with, he'd ignored every bit of sense he'd had and assumed the worst. Nevermind that he was the worst at pouring beer that Demoman had ever seen. Nevermind that he'd just emerged from a bowl of said poor pour. Nevermind that licking his chops had dismissed the suds.

Of course, said suds had come back several hours later when the actual rabies coursing through his body set in, this time as a frothy white foam in his mouth. Damn those raccoons and their penchant for bringing home the disease and passing it around. It had been more than once that the entire team had been subjected to the painful and aggravating injections required to treat it.

"I'm sorry, Tavish." Soldier's voice quivered. He sniffled a little, holding back tears that threatened to tear him down. Dimly, he recalled a childhood memory. Though he wasn't sure if it was his own childhood or whether he was simply confusing his life for the movie Old Yeller again.

With a huff and a sigh, Demoman growled and backed away. He whined and looked around for an avenue of escape. They were out of respawn range, and he was too close for the blast to do anything to tear him to wet chunks. He couldn't attack Soldier, because there was no guarantee he could stop, or that the gun wouldn't still go off.

"Goodbye, old friend." Soldier's finger began to squeeze, and he steeled himself with a deep breath.

A loud CLANG rang out and the gun dropped to the dirt, making Demoman yelp and dive out of its path in case it fired. He looked up with eye full of wonder to see Sniper and Medic standing over an unconscious Soldier, a dent in his helmet, and the blunt side of Sniper's kukri similarly dented. Medic tutted.

"Does he not realize WE HAVE A DOKTOR ON BASE WHO CAN HEAL LITERALLY DEATH?" the German groaned aloud, more to the open night's sky than his assembled teammates. It drew a smirk from the Australian who was busily checking Soldier's vitals.


	9. moofrog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some light Hot Rods bondage, where Engie has remote controlled vibrators in both Sniper and Pyro. The two can't touch each other, only kiss. Engie enjoys watching and only jumps into to help once they're to the point of begging. (I swear this is the kinkiest thing I've ever requested ohgod)

Sniper slipped away from Pyro's lips, from the taste of his tongue and the heat of his mouth, pitching forward and letting his forehead fall to the firebug's shoulder, supporting himself as best he could as he let out a breathy keen against his lover's hot skin.

His shoulders ached, just as Pyro's did, arms secured tightly behind their backs with rope. Their knees ached, supporting them with nothing to lean on but one another, nothing to do but kiss and nuzzle and quiver under the assault of the plugs inside them, buzzing away and sending ripples through their bodies.

Sniper whimpered, lips ghosting needily against the soft flesh of Pyro's neck, feeling himself fraying apart at the seams. He was hard to the point of pain, a light drop of precome welling at the tip of his cock. His balls were drawn up, his body creaking and shaking and ready to completely give out, and he needed to touch, to be touched, so badly, but all he was allowed was to kiss his beloved Pyro, and all Pyro could do was return the gesture, sweat gathering at his temples and the small of his back, his resolve eroding rapidly as the plug inside buzzed against his prostate.

Engineer palmed idly at himself, not bothering to actually grasp hold of himself and work with any real honest effort. Instead, he just cradled his balls and let himself rub lightly against his palm, his hips jolting up in slight bucks as he watched from his seat nearby. His lovers were beautiful, perfect like this, coming undone before his very eyes. He lifted the remote that controlled both men's vibrators and regarded it with interest for a moment, then flicked the dial up to its maximum setting, delighting in the sudden cry of desperate pleasure from each of the men kneeling in front of him.

Sniper bit gently at Pyro's neck and yowled against his skin, feeling Pyro slump forward and whine. It was so much, it was too much. With tears in his eyes, Sniper began to beg. "Please, please, Truckie please!"

"Is that what you boys want?"

Pyro's jaw went slack, mouthing emptily at the air for a moment before finally summoning his voice properly. "Yes, please, Engie!"

A crooked smile made its way across Engineer's face and he rose from his seat. They'd been good. Might as well be time to reward them.


	10. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY MEDIC WITH MEDIC DEAD POST WAR CAUSE HES AN OLD AND HEAVY SAD MAYBE PLEASE?

"Doktor," Heavy breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. It trembled, the slightest quaver that threatened to break. His breath caught in his chest, then his throat, popping softly between his vocal cords and bubbling up like the tears that threatened to prickle at his eyes.

He looked down at the face of his beloved doctor. At the strong jaw and short, broad nose. At the thin lips and rakishly peaked eyebrows. He saw the gentle wrinkles that creased at the corners of his eyes, laugh lines that had begun to form there and near his mouth. He saw the haze of a half-day's worth of stubble pushing slowly through his skin. He saw all of this, this perfect creature, and he ached. He saw the furrowed brows, the grimace. He saw the hands clutching his middle and the wracking shudders of his lean, fit body. He saw the agony Medic endured, and felt himself began to shake.

"Doktor," he whispered again, plaintive, pleading, his voice cracking. "I told you not to enter hot-dog eating contest."

Medic rolled onto his side, clutching his middle and growling. "I am going to burst and die and you are trying not to laugh. You are the literal worst."

Heavy wiped a tear beginning to well in his eye. Medic was such a baby when his belly hurt, and losing the contest to a teenaged girl was only insult to injury. "You eat so much I think you are literal wurst."

"Kill me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry, kind anon. I don't write deathfic.)


	11. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you do sniper reader? Maybe he is set up on a blind date by the team and his date is the reader or is that to complicated for a drabble?

It came as a surprise, to be honest, when you entered the restaurant to find that he'd already gotten there before you. You were a minute or two early, and it caught you off-guard when, upon entering the dining area at the side of the hostess, a tall, lanky man with a long face and a slouch hat stood, removed his hat, and moved to pull your chair out for you. Early and polite? Who was this guy?

He introduced himself as Mundy, his voice warm and held in his palate, his Australian accent pleasing to the ear. When he smiled, it was at once terribly polite and surprisingly sexy. You'd never seen a man with teeth that sharp before, and it was more than a little endearing considering his sweet demeanor.

He oozed self-doubt in spite of himself, trying very hard to deflect the conversation away from his job and his interests, but the moment you mentioned a recent camping trip everything changed.

Mundy was animated and excited, happy to share stories about his time living in the bush, growing up in the middle of nowhere and learning to shoot and hunt. He made sure to stop himself before launching into any gory details, but you could tell that he had plenty of stomach-churning anecdotes far suitable to a chat over beers than dinner conversation.

He ate with the precision and care of someone trying far too hard to present nicely, and you had to wonder if perhaps he tended to eat with his hands. Or, at least, spear large chunk of food on a fork or knife and rip it off in chunks with his teeth, rather than cut nicely. The way he cut his food, in small, exacting pieces for easy, short bursts of chewing, showed an emphasis on efficiency that made you question whether he actually enjoyed the meal.

He certainly seemed to, eating his fill and taking what leftovers you didn't care for; only when you'd offered them to him, of course.

His laugh was enchanting, slightly raspy and with a hidden bass to it that suggested a versatility in his vocal cords. Idly, you entertained theories that he'd once been a singer, or at least a musician. Or perhaps an actor. No, he seemed far too self-conscious for that.

When the check came, he insisted on paying. He assured you that no matter the cost, he could cover it. His work pays well, though, again, he refused to divulge exactly WHAT that work was.

You idly wondered if perhaps Rene had set you up with some kind of criminal, or judging by that voice of his, perhaps a sex worker. You made a note to badger that French bastard until he spilled the beans. It was the least he could do after you'd agreed to going on this date with his "lonely friend". Though, looking up at the tall Aussie who smiled so charmingly to you, you wondered if perhaps you should be thanking your dear neighbour instead. Since he'd moved in a few months ago, your life certainly seemed to be filled with more handsome, foreign men than before.

You exchanged phone numbers outside the restaurant, and went your separate ways, content to call the night a bit of fun but little more. Mundy assured you it was no insult, but his job keeps odd hours, and he had some work he had to go get done. With a warm hug and a whispered apology, you parted, watching the tall man walk off into the night with a smile on your lips.

Maybe he'd have some free time soon. Maybe you two could do this again sometime. Maybe you'd find out what those sharp teeth felt like on your skin, what that voice sounded like ragged with passion. The drive home was a little distracting.

When you reached your door, you fumbled with your keys a bit, and when you seized the correct one and slipped it into the lock, you never had a chance to turn it. Before you knew, you knew heat, and pain, and sharpness, and then you knew the doorstep, stone against your temple. Then, you knew nothing else, and darkness consumed all.

 

 

Sniper sighed and lifted his eye from the scope of his rifle. He stood from his roost and hefted his rifle over his shoulder, then turned and made his way to the van parked a dozen or so meters down the hillside, where Spy sat in the passenger seat, waiting patiently with an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"Is it done?"

"'Course it's done. I told you. I have a plan for everyone."

"Even me?"

"Especially you. You know where to wire the money."

"But of course."


	12. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about heavymedic ship, 'blindfold/restraint' as the prompt word. thanks!!

Heavy strained to listen, to gain any understanding as to what was happening. He laid on his back, wrists secured firmly to the headboard, blindfold cutting off his sight. He shifted and arched and tried to find contact, but there was none, just the aching heat of his erection in the cool evening air of the quarters he and Medic shared.

A soft shuffling to one side heralded Medic's return, and warm fingers tickling at his thigh confirmed his presence. He heard a soft chuckle, full of menace and purpose, and it surged straight to his groin.

"Mein Kuschelbär," the doctor cooed, letting his hand drift up that thigh, but dipping down to tease gently at what little of Heavy's bottom he could reach, petting at the soft hair that covered much of his body. "You are mein toy tonight. You know how well I take care of mein toys, ja?"

"D-da," Heavy replied, a little hesitantly.

"Then you also know how much use I get out of them," the doctor's voice deepened, thickened, and Heavy felt his legs being lifted by strong hands to rest on broad shoulders, and before he could react, a cold, slick, wetness pressed against his hole. "Und how quickly I tend to wear them out." He pushed his finger in, almost immediately joining it with a second, and relished Heavy's gasping whimper. "Let us see how long you last."


	13. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about Soldier/Merasmus with Soldier breaking Merasmus out of jail?

He couldn't believe he'd done it, but he'd done it. He was here, that bastard. Soldier was here and he'd just blown a hole not through the exterior wall of Merasmus' jail cell, but the wall between it and the adjoining cell. And that cell's adjoining wall. And that cell's adjoining wall. And so on, and so forth, through the entire block, the external rooms and hallways, a least one lavatory, and the lobby, in a straight line of abject destruction to stand in the wreckage of the cell wall holding his rocket launcher in one hand and a bouquet of dandelions, honeysuckles, and violets with chunks of torn up lawn and turf still hanging to the roots. He wore his uniform, but also, a bow tie.

"I am here for my conjugal visit, Merasmus! I hope you've missed me!"

Merasmus wanted to scream. He wanted to curse. He wanted to spit fire and transform into a giant mantis and devour Soldier's face in bloody, righteous fury.

He sat down on his bunk, ignoring the mildly confused befuddlement of his cellmate, and rested his head in his hands, scrubbing over his face in a desperate bid to wake from the nightmare that had become his life.

Other wizards had to deal with witch-hunters, adventurers, or the odd ancient elder evil.

Merasmus had to deal with Soldier.

Other wizards had familiars, golems, undead, and loyal servants.

Merasmus had Soldier.


	14. support-sandvich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DemoMedic - Medic and Demo talk about Demo's missing eye.

"It will never cease to amaze me how cleanly it was removed, "Medic mused, peeking behind Demoman's eyepatch as he lounged across the bomber's lap.

"Magic'll do that, love. If ye remember, Monoculous still has the nerve and gory bits attached, flappin' around behind it." Demoman smiled in spite of himself, far too amused by his lover's curiosity.

"Ah, that is true, I'd forgotten." Medic peered in one last time before closing it. "So what is the strangest thing--"

"A newborn kitten."

"...was?"

"Ye were going tae ask me what the strangest thing I ever smuggled in me socket was, aye?"

"Ah, j-ja..."

"A newborn kitten."

"A newborn kitten?"

"A newborn kitten."

"I need to know this story."

"Well, in the aftermath of a job, there was a panic and a scramble, and the poor wee bairn's mum must have been run over in the chaos, poor thing. I heard crying not far from where I found her, and in a wee crawl space under some stairs, a lone kitten was nestled in, cryin' for its mum. I scooped the poor thing up and took it with me. Needed tae get across the border in short time, so I picked up some food for it at a local store, and snuck the wee thing through customs in me socket. He's me mum's cat. Lives at the mansion. His name's Odin. Great mouser, he is."

"I...I am overwhelmed with how disgustingly cute that is."

"I seem to get that reaction a lot," Demoman chuckled, tugging at the collar of his shirt.


	15. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashfire (scout x pyro) something with cuddles and sharing candy/sweet things please?

"So what's this one?" Scout asked, watching Pyro fiddle with a waxed paper wrapper. He closed his eyes as the firebug popped a blue and pink piece of taffy into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

"Cotton candy," Pyro supplied with a smile, hurriedly unwrapping one of his own.

"Damn, I'll say! How do they get 'em to taste so much like it, I wonder!"

"Sugar, probably," the firebug shrugged, chomping down on a green and yellow chunk of taffy.

"What's that one?"

"Caramel apple."

"You've been holdin' out on me? You had apple all this time an' you ain't been sharin'? I thought you loved me, Py!"

"I do love you!" Pyro assured his boyfriend. "But... caramel apple." He chewed and grinned, ignoring Scout's increasingly loud pouting.


	16. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Engineer taking care of WereDemoman please, it can be platonic or not I don't mind either.

"Now don't fall asleep on me, son, else I won't be able to get ya to roll over an' you'll be stuck with one side thicker 'n the other," Engineer teased, scratching gently behind Demoman's ear, his other hand slowly guiding a metal-toothed brush through the werewolf's thick coat. Thick clumps of shed fur gathered in the brush, soft, charcoal grey hairs standing starkly against the outer black of the great beast's shaggy coat.

Demoman yawned, his muzzle drawn up into a dreamy smile as he softly panted, relishing the attention as the Texan brushed away his shed fur and scratched circles around his ears and chin. It was hard not to get a little drowsy under those conditions, luxuriating in the attention as he was.

"Never understand how you can shed like this when you only got the coat one night a month," the mechanic mused, shaking his head and picking the brush clean, depositing the shed fur into a waste bin beside him.

For his part, Demoman simply shrugged, a lupine mixture of whimper and snuffle escaping him in an imitation of a grunt of "I dunno". It was an awkward sound, and it set Engineer to chuckling, which spread to the great wolf himself, a snuffling snorting pushing between his teeth and through his nose as his chest and belly rocked with laughter.


	17. squidwardladyofthedance

"You sure this is a good idea?" Sniper asked, looking about for any witnesses as Spy sank to his knees in front of him, deft, gloved hands quickly undoing his belt and fly with practiced ease.

"Of course, mon chasseur," Spy grinned, tugging his lover's half-hard cock from his pants and letting his fingers dance over its warm, stiffening length. "At least, it is the least bad out of all of the ideas that are currently filling my head. Certainly it is a better idea than dragging you to the floor and taking you roughly here where your cries of ecstasy will alert your team and bring them running to watch our frenzied rutting and your complete undoing as I claim you as my own and make you scream my name, Cher." He waggled his eyebrows a bit as Sniper's face quickly reddened and his cock sprang the rest of the way to life.

The bushman gulped hard and turned his attention back out to the field. If he kept low, he'd be fine. He could steady his rifle on the window sill and keep working even as Spy...

His hot tongue traced a line from balls to tip, making Sniper hiss and buckle.

Even as Spy worked on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt thing, uh sniper/spy mid battle sex


	18. anonymous

"Doc, is this all necessary?" Engineer asked, tugging his hardhat off and scratching at the stubble of his shaven head. Before him lay an impressive setup. Greasy party foods: burgers, hot dogs, nachos, tacos, and assorted chips and dips, all lay about the mess table atop scales, in beakers and specimen dishes, and in the case of one flask of nacho cheese, being heated by the very, very minute flame of a bunsen burner. Liquor sat nearby in colourful flasks and beakers, with an array of needleless syringes sterilized and ready to be used, several already containing what looked like shot-sized doses of rum, whiskey, and liquers, ready to go.

"Of course, Schatz! One cannot have a party without Science!"

"I don't think this is what Scout meant when he said we were gonna have us a Science Party, Darlin'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe some science party? there is not enough Engie/Medic in the world


	19. anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy/Medic, with some Heavy tummy worshipping? uwu Thank you so much!

"Mmm, you are so soft," Medic cooed, pressing his cheek to Heavy's belly and sinking gently. Soft fat cushioned his head, dark hairs tickling at his nose and lips as he snuggled against the giant's middle, wrapping his arms around Heavy's bulk and giving him a squeeze.

Heavy's pudge was a source of minor fixation for Medic, a layer of padding atop unreal amounts of muscle, insulation over the powerful structure that was the giant's body. He was strong, so strong, and one squeeze of his bicep or calf would reveal that strength in rigid magnificence, but it was here, around his core, where the workings of his body ticked away in perfect mechanical order, that he wore a soft coating of fat. It protected and supported him, but mostly, it was a sign of the enormous caloric intake the man ingested. Mostly, to build and maintain muscle. Or so he claimed, citing the heavy loads of protein he prepared for his meals.

The chocolates and pastries he snuck after a hard day's work, however, told the rest of the story.

And Medic loved it. He loved to lay against his beloved, head cushioned on the soft pillow of his belly as he reclined between his legs, book in hand. He loved to brush his cheek and nose over soft hairs and comfy tummy, nuzzling in and hugging him tight. He loved to mush his face into Heavy's belly and blow out, making rude noises and giggling like the immature child he was.

But mostly, he just loved to pet him. To rub circles and feel the giant relax and sigh contentedly as his hand made slow passes through hair and over pudge, whispering praises of how perfect and beautiful and amazing he was.


	20. forgottensunflowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not to late for a drabble could I please get Putting up with the brat getting ready for a fancy dinner, suits and all and Scout having no clue what he's doing so the other two help?

"Wait, so it's loop then push through here?" Scout asked, holding the ends of his tie like a pair of frayed, sparking wires, his brow knitted close in confusion.

Medic turned from straightening his collar to smile at his youngest lover. He was a sight. Long, strong legs were clad in dark, charcoal grey slacks, perfectly pressed and tailored to hug his hips appealingly. The waistcoat that peeked over his belt matched and laid over his white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and Medic couldn't help but appreciate the shape of his forearms and broad hands so displayed. He'd yet to don his shoes, but his black socked feet fidgeted as he tried to figure out how the hell a tie worked.

"You have never tied tie?" Heavy asked, hand coming to Scout's back to rub slow circles.

"Well, no. We had to wear ties to church an' stuff, but those were always clip-on. Ma didn't trust us not to choke each other out with real ties if we had the chance. Can't say I blame her, really," Scout shrugged, giving up and dropping the ends of the tie.

Medic circled round front of the runner and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Here, Vögelchen, allow me." He took hold of the fabric and quickly tied it in a full windsor with little effort. "Ah, bitte sehr."

Scout cast a glance to the mirror and straightened his tie. "How the hell did you do that so quick?"

"I do it every day, and have for several decades, now," Medic laughed. "Now get your shoes on. Our reservations are in half an hour and this restaurant does not appreciate tardiness from its patrons."

"Hope the food's good enough to warrant them bein' so picky," Scout mumbled, a little surprised.

"Oh it is. And besides, it is an establishment that knows to mind its own business."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that three boyfriends having dinner will not cause waitstaff to become nosy," Heavy supplied. "Can hold lovers' hands without problems."

"Oh man, that's worth it alone," Scout grinned.


	21. ysmni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the drabble thang hit me up with some graham/medic smut with sniper watching from the sidelines onegai <3
> 
> (Author Note: Graham is ysmni's OC, an incubus who can alter a creature's mental state and read/replay their memories using a needle-like appendage at the tip of his tail. He and Sniper have a history together.)

"You like it, Doctor?"

Medic gasped, his back arching and a clawed hand slipping under it to support him. Every nerve was alive, buzzing with sensation he'd never before experienced. Every sense read pleasure and sex, his mind a smoldering ashen pile of erotic thoughts and memories, hazy and indistinct and half-blocking off the reality he was clinging to desperately to, that he was trying so hard to commit every single aspect of to memory, to save and cherish. His blurry eyes strained to cast his gaze through his skewed spectacles, studying the creature above him, atop him, inside him. Purple dominated his vision, a halo of violet hair falling about a pale, pretty face, which was screwed up in a mixture of effort and ecstasy. Pointed ears and horns, mottled purple across porcelain-white skin, and grand, bat-like wings laid out before him. A long tail clung to the back of his neck, a light prickle of pain where its nexus punctured his flesh, peeking into his thoughts and memories. He was an incubus, a demon, a monster. And he was beautiful.

"I 'ope you're up for sloppy seconds, Graham," Sniper teased, watching from a nearby seat. The hotel bed was large, its sheets rumpled as Medic clutched at them and writhed about.

Graham, the incubus, snapped his hips and cast a cheeky grin to the Australian, letting his eyes wander over his reclining form and the hand that lazily palmed his erection through his trousers. "I think I can fit you in," he teased, bucking into Medic again and relishing the bark of need the doctor unleashed amid his babbling whines.

"I've fit every other time," the assassin chuckled darkly.


	22. blackcatkin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A-are you taking prompts? Scout/Solly, captured and interrogated from other team, however the captor has a questionable anger whenever someone else manages to make them cry....(dubcon/hc)
> 
> (Author's Note: I deviated a bit from the prompt.)

He was alone. He was finally alone. Left shivering and naked in a blank concrete room with only the buzz of the dying fluorescent light to keep him company, to drive him mad.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, naked and alone, before they came for him. First it was sweet talk, bargaining, wheedling and needling. Spy and Sniper playing good and bad cop, reasonable and savage. It had done little, and he'd kept his tongue between his teeth. They kept trying, over and over, between long gaps of isolation in that miserable, grey room.

Eventually, they'd given up, and they showed up with rope and knuckles to bind and pound, barking questions and demanding answers. It had been an eternity, clenching his teeth and tasting his own blood as it was freed from his gums and nose by falling blows. His eyes had swollen shut. His ribs hurt, and one might be broken. His hand had gone numb from the pain of being stomped. Violence hadn't worked. It wouldn't work. He'd been beaten within an inch of his life more than once, and this would be no different.

They wouldn't kill him. Killing him would gain them nothing, and respawn would ferry him back from the underworld in a flash of crimson science. But they could torture him. So they did.

"I cannot believe he has not cracked yet," Medic barked, watching the room, the slumped, bloody frame of the opposing team's Scout, over the closed-circuit television. "Our Scout wails like he's dying at hangnails."

"I do not, Deutschbag!"

"Will the two of you shut up?" Soldier growled, staring at the screen. His mouth was turned down into a grimace, and he could feel his flesh burning where the RED's blood still clung beneath his fingernails. "We cannot continue this much longer. It is getting us nowhere!"

"We could always get a little more creative," Medic offered, producing a scalpel from his sleeve with a magician's flourish.

Soldier visibly reeled back, disgusted, horrified. He felt his guts knot up tightly. "You put that way, Private, or it's going right up your ass!"

"What crawled up your ass?" Scout barked, invading Soldier's personal space.

"Me, if you do not watch your tongue," Soldier snarled, turning his attention back to the screen.

The team had to give in soon. They had to. This couldn't go on. He couldn't handle doing this to him much longer. Every punch was straight to his own heart, and every pleading look the RED gave him echoed a smile he'd seen before, eyes full of joy and light. That bloody, broken-toothed mouth had once smiled and whispered I Love Yous.

Maybe the scalpel would be a good idea. One bump of Medic's hand, one errant slash, and the RED Scout would be spirited away by the merciful embrace of death.

"Doc, get your stuff. But I'm going in there with you."


	23. mbeefluttergut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> th-this is the mod for the blu spy cosplay blog you follow. if you're still taking requests, can i ask for RED demo/BLU spy or some eugene/garrette uuh ... the prompt being 'unmasked' or some soft kind of exhibitionism?' please and thank you. v///v 
> 
> (Author's Note: Eugene is an OC Sniper created and portrayed by Inkyshark of askcosplaysniper.tumblr.com, and Garrette is the OC Spy created and portrayed by the requester, of demandeauspyblu.tumblr.com, both amazing cosplay askblogs.)

"You're sure?" Eugene asked, eyebrow raised. He swallowed thickly, his mouth dry. His fingers dipped beneath the fabric of Garrette's mask, nails pressing against his exposed throat.

Ever evasive, Garrette smiled coquettishly. "Why wouldn't I be? This is a courtesy."

"A courtesy," the sniper repeated, eyes roving the expanse of the spy's body perched atop his own, of what he'd already exposed with neither pomp nor circumstance. The heat between them grew to near-unbearable levels, the moment pregnant with confusion and desire in equal measure.

"Well?"  
  
"You're sure?"

"Never." Garrette steeled himself and canted his chin upward, urging him onward.


End file.
